


Bloody Clarity

by beanmom



Series: Indulging Deep Desires [4]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Aftercare, Also in the bad dreams, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Blood, Blood and Gore, Character Study, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Everything between Viren and Aaravos is consensual, Feelings, Frottage, Implied Past Runaan/Viren, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Its in a bad nightmare, Knifeplay, M/M, Manipulation, Marking, Nightmares, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Harrow/Viren, Psychological Drama, Restraints, Scars, Tenderness, This is dark at first but gets fluffy towards the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 20:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18038084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanmom/pseuds/beanmom
Summary: Viren finds himself plagued with nightmares full of guilt, reliving horrors he caused. He bleeds to feel the pain that he dealt  out, alleviate the guilt within himself. Aaravos is happy to oblige.





	Bloody Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> So the beginning of this is it uhhh real dark and real bad delving into Viren's mind and the guilt he's filled with for a lot of his past actions, it really goes into gory detail of his nightmares which is where the rape/noncon elements occur 
> 
> But if you wanna skip all of that and just head straight to the porn, (which is still bloody/knife play) just search for the phrase "Are you alright?"
> 
> Happy reading!!

Every night, Viren finds himself plagued with dreams. Dreams of Harrow's death, Sarai's death, of Runaan's torture, of the countless others he let die for the so-called greater good.  
  
His subconscious twists everything until it's unrecognizable, undeniably horrific. His brain plays him the scene where he broke Runaan's horn a thousand times, the bone cracking in his grip, the elf screaming so loud the court would've heard if not for the sound canceling spells he wove down there years ago. He took the challenge of finding something worse than death to heart. He enjoyed it perhaps too much, threatening horrors just to watch the elf turn pale with fear, for as much as he claimed that he was already dead, his body, unfortunately for him, could still feel.  
  
The dreams make each act of torture so much more cruel than reality. He watches his hands tear away Runaan's last dignity, leaving every inch of his skin exposed. The elf's eyes are filled with fear and disgust. His brain fills in the blanks for the parts he never saw. In his dreams Runaan begs him to stop as he slices open his flesh with a glittering dagger, blood and intestines trailing across the stone floor. His brain makes those parts of Runaan painfully human, and it hurts Viren even more than it otherwise would have.

His fingers press into Runaan's mouth, acting as conductors of electricity, watching the elf's body convulse with pain, screams tearing through him. His hands slide up bare thighs, glide over his chest, pinching his nipples. Viren fucks him, his ass, his mouth, even the bloody holes left by the dagger, until Runaan is filled with his cum, streaks turning pink where it mixes with blood. Viren never touched him, not in real life, not sexually. As much as he wanted to, he’d never do something like that without consent. The worst he did was run hands over Runaan’s bare chest, the elf scowling at him. Every detail is true, to a certain extent. But the dream Viren takes it too far every time. The waters of his brain are so murky. Sometimes Runaan's face morphs into Harrow's, or Sarai's.  
  
The screams and sobs are ringing in his ears when Viren wakes, his own eyes full of tears. The worst part of the dreams is how much Viren _enjoys_ himself while he's there, waking up hard, the guilt hitting him like a freight train. Aaravos is always there to soothe him, with a gentle hand on his cock and comforting words. Maybe if his brain was a little clearer he could see that Aaravos’ magic is causing some of these dreams, some of these problems for him. Borrowing magic this powerful is a risky business, and the dreams have only gotten worse since Aaravos came into his life. And it's only a matter of time before he _cracks_. But he can't bring himself to go down that line of thinking, because that would mean giving this up, and at this point Viren is afraid to do it alone, without the power. And it would mean giving up having someone. He would be alone again and that terrifies him more than he can admit.

Sometimes his own children are in his nightmares, and he watches them die, watches as their limbs get spread apart, torn and ripped from their bodies, as they _beg_ for mercy. Claudia’s eyes sparkle with tears as her mouth fills with blood, her stomach sliced open until her internal organs are pulled out, intestines pooling on the ground. Soren's eyes are torn from his skull, his body battered and bruised, bones broken and poking through the skin in the mangled mockery of a human being.

It's his fears, that this part of his subconscious uses against him. Reminding him that he told Claudia to let Soren die over losing the dragon egg. Reminding him that he told Soren to kill the princes. Valuing power over the lives of his own children. He knows he's not a good father, but _fuck_ , does he really deserve to watch this night after night? When Viren wakes from those dreams, it feels like he's been waterboarded, choking on his own tears. The worst part is that he can't even check if they're okay, after sending them to the ends of the world.

Here, in his bedchamber, Viren's limbs are spread apart, naked, each extremity tied to a post at the corners of his bed. It's almost an ironic mockery of his subconscious. He's trembling, Aaravos' plush lips sucking his nipples, gently squeezing his cock. Is this what he did to Runaan, while the elf begged him to stop? He hopes not. Sometimes Runaan will morph into Harrow or Sarai and Viren will watch them die at his own hand. He tortured Runaan for Harrow's death, but he truly blamed himself more.  
  
Where is he now? Is it Runaan on top of him, taking retribution? Sarai, here to kill him like he killed her?  Or Harrow, here to fuck into him with abandon, breaking his back against the chamber wall? Did Harrow ever really want him? Or was he just a poor substitute for Sarai, acting as more of the king's concubine than his advisor? Sometimes he's certain that all Harrow needed him for was to warm his cock. And he couldn't even do that right, getting him killed instead.   
  
"Are you alright?" Aaravos' deep velvet voice purrs against his ear, hot breath ghosting over the skin. "You don't seem quite... present."  
  
Viren blinks. Oh. It's Aaravos on top of him. He thinks he knows... when he is. Aaravos' golden eyes are filled with concern, gazing down at him. "I'm alright." Aaravos' voice is one of the few things that still brings him clarity.  
  
"Good." The elf kisses him, igniting fire in his veins, sending hot lava curling through his abdomen. His cock twitches against his stomach. "But if you realize otherwise, do let me know."  
  
Viren's emotions are painted on his face. He's never been very good at hiding them when he's this vulnerable. And he can tell Aaravos can sense it, the elf's nibbling on his throat so incredibly gentle. It's such a contrast to his terrible dreams, the horrible acts that haunt him even in his waking hours. Aaravos has never made an appearance in his nightmares. Maybe because he's the one constant in his life Viren feels no guilt over choosing.  
  
Every time he closes his eyes, he can see the pained expressions of everyone else.  
  
"Tell me, Viren, what is it you need tonight?"  
  
Viren swallows. Maybe if he can make himself feel for them, it'll ease some of the guilt he has. This tenderness isn't something he deserves, after all. "Pain. Hurt me."  
  
Aaravos smiles, almost knowingly, thumb brushing over Viren's lower lip. "Knife or whip?"  
  
"Knife." Viren's trembling when he replies, almost afraid. Good. He needs to be afraid.  
  
He doesn't know how Aaravos moves so fast. His blade presses lightly against Viren's throat, gliding over his collarbones, slipping down his stomach to curve through the fluff at the base of his cock. Viren freezes, the flat of the cold blade pressing against the underside of his cock. He's shaking, his body trembling involuntarily. He knows Aaravos wouldn't, trusts him too much, that's why he lets him do this, but the fear is so intrinsic that he can't stop it from bubbling in his chest. His heart is fluttering against his ribs like a caged bird. Aaravos' free hand cups his face, fingers curling under his chin. He lifts Viren's head as the metal warms against his skin.  
  
"Relax," he purrs, knife sliding even lower, teasing the sensitive skin inside Viren's thighs, "I certainly wouldn't want to make a mistake, now would I?"  
  
Viren swallows again, trying his best to stay still. Arousal and fear curl in his gut, the familiar magical pressure tight around the base of his cock. Pain slices through his thigh and Viren cries out, wrists straining against black ropes. Blood beads across his pale skin. His brain is sharpened, heightened. Pain always clears the murky waters of his mind.

But god, it's not enough. Aaravos' lips are curled in a smirk, he doesn't even have to point out Viren's desperation. The knife slashes his other thigh, and Viren sobs. Blood pools between his legs, staining the sheets crimson.  
  
"Shhh," Aaravos croons, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, so delicate, so different from the knife breaking his skin. Viren's eyes start to fill with tears.  
  
The knife glides across his stomach, Viren tensing in anticipation. Aaravos teases his skin, slicing shallow patterns over the surface. Viren's chest is heaving as he gasps for air, letting out the most pathetic whimpering moans. A wicked grin crosses Aaravos' face and the knife moves with purpose, slicing a shape into his chest. Viren's vision is blurred as tears start to fall, precum dripping on his stomach, mingling with the blood. Aaravos’ thumb brushes away his tears.  
  
The elf kisses the center of his chest, between the carved lines of the symbol. The grin plays around his mouth as he raises his head, licking his lips. "We match now."  
  
Viren blinks, clearing his vision of tears and looks down at himself. His eyes go wide. Aaravos carved into him a perfect replica of the rune on his chest, his cock aching at the implications of being marked like that, like Aaravos owns him. The thought should anger him, but instead his cock strains against its bonds, achingly close to an orgasm. Viren whimpers, If he was more coherent, he'd realize how dangerous that is. He doesn't know what the rune means, but it most likely has some deep power, and being marked with it certainly can't bode well. The magical pressure forces the orgasm to subside, and Viren's left shaking, unsatisfied.  
  
But that's a problem for the future. For now, Viren's brain is filled with arousal and pain and desperation. The knife deepens the rune on his chest, digging deep as though to ensure that it'll scar over. If Viren didn't know better, he'd think it's glowing. It must be a trick of the light.  
  
Aaravos climbs up over Viren's body, pressing their lips together as his free hand wraps around Viren's cock, pumping gently as the knife draws more blood from his chest. Viren feels a little lightheaded. The starry elf is dripping with Viren's blood, he's almost afraid to look down to see what's on his hand. Is that really warmed lube easing the path of his strokes?  
  
A tongue pushes into Viren's helpless mouth. Aaravos' lips taste like copper, Viren swallowing his own blood off his tongue. He's definitely getting lightheaded, Aaravos swallowing his weak moans. He lets go of Viren's cock, his own wrapping around it like a tentacle, squeezing and pumping. Aaravos groans into his mouth, fingers twisting a nipple.  
  
Viren breaks the kiss, gasping for air. "Aa... Oh _god_ , Aara... _Aaravos_ , please!"  
  
The magical pressure around the base of his cock vanishes. Aaravos' teeth bubble his earlobe. "Cum. Cum for me, Viren."  
  
Viren's body obeys with a cry yanked from his throat, back arching as white splatters both of their chests. Aaravos releases soon after, with the quietest of moans. Viren wishes that he's louder. The one night he allowed Viren to pleasure him, to tie him down and touch him is the loudest he's ever been, and he didn't even dare ask permission to fuck him.  
  
Aaravos kisses him again, gently. He sits back and draws a rune in the air, murmuring an incantation under his breath. The blood and cum soaking the two of them vanish, Viren's cuts knitting up neatly, until there's almost no trace of them. The only exception is the rune carved into his chest, which is left as a deep scar.  
  
The ropes unknot themselves, coiling neatly away in a drawer, to be used again another night. Aaravos helps Viren sit up,  back leaning against the headboard. He presses a glass to Viren's lips. Oh, right. The blood loss. Aaravos could knit up his wounds, by manipulating the blood he lost into skin cells to patch him up, but he can't make more blood appear out of nowhere. Viren drinks the water, gratefully. A small stream drips from the corner of his mouth, which Aaravos gently wipes away.  
  
Viren's head lolls against Aaravos' shoulder, the elf's fingers stroking through his hair. If he didn't know better, he'd say they looked like lovers, or at least just as intimate. Aaravos kisses his temple. "You need to eat something."  
  
Viren nods weakly, too exhausted to argue. Aaravos, of course, always prepared for what came after. Viren opens his mouth obediently to pull each orange slice from Aaravos' fingers, the sweet juice of the fruit washing over his taste buds. He licks the juice from the elf's fingertips. He's warm, his head feels a little loopy, like he's tipsy. His guilt, his problems, they all feel miles away. All that exists right now is him and this gorgeous elf, alone together as the only two beings that matter.

It looks almost like the scars on his chest are glowing. It must be a trick of the light. 

Viren falls asleep, curled against Aaravos' side, eventually sliding down enough to rest his head in the elf's lap. Aaravos leans against the headboard, playing with Viren's hair, choosing some book of his to read. It'll be most interesting to get the human perspective on historical events, after only seeing the Xadian side, and that too, extremely outdated events.

**Author's Note:**

> This I actually wrote over a few days instead of a few hours, but most of it was still written in the middle of the night so go figure
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed it!! 
> 
> I'm honestly ecstatic over the feedback this series has been getting and I'm so grateful to everyone who reads, especially those of you who leave kudos and comments thank you so much xx


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